Hope and Peace

                                                        Holly by our door on Chickadee Lane.

Christmas decorations are popping up everywhere. People are outdoors. Lights are being installed.

I need this season… especially this year as I wrestle with a conflict of feelings.

The images of the ongoing war in Israel and Hamas fill our screens. My heart aches at the deaths of over 14,000 people and I wonder, How can this be? Have we not learned a better way as humans? 

At the same time, I can safely go to bed at night and not worry about the possibility of bullets entering my home. I can sleep soundly. How can this be? 

While the numbers can be overwhelming, these days I think especially of one -  Mariam who I met in a small city near Bethlehem in 2001 while visiting her Palestinian family. 

I was in Israel and Palestine with a group of Canadians attending an International Sabeel Conference in Jerusalem. It was just after the an intifada (uprising) and Bethlehem Square was moderately quiet as tourism was down. Today I understand that Bethlehem Square is silent while the war between Israel and Hamas continues. 

On that day, three of us joined Mariam and her husband for lunch… to get a taste of life in everyday Palestine.

They had moved into their son’s apartment in the centre of town as it was to dangerous to stay in their home in the suburbs. We climbed the outside stairs to a second floor apartment. 

In an effort to be a gracious host, Mariam wanted to put on her ‘best spread’ - as my mother would say, so once we had settled and exchanged the usual greetings, Mariam beckoned to me and said, “Come with me.” So I did.

Down the stairs we went, climbed into her very small car and sped away through the inner city streets to the outskirts of town - to her home. 

Frantically she drove, manoeuvring through narrow roundabouts where a quick horn signal told others we were coming. 

We raced out of town. All the while my new friend is saying “So dangerous.”

We got to their home, a lovely terracotta bungalow. She quickly  showed me through. Showed the bullet holes in the wall above her bed and along the hall way.

Into the kitchen she rapidly gathered up her best cutlery and dishes. Bundled them into the car and raced back to the safety of the inner city. Like many hosts she wanted to use her best for the foreign visitors.

These days I think of her. Twenty-two years later I wonder if Mariam is alive. She could be one of the thousands killed.

Finally, this weekend Hope is in the air. A 4-day cease fire is holding. Palestinian women and children held in Israeli prisons and Israeli hostages held by Hamas in Gaza are slowly being returned to their families. Hundreds of supply trucks are entering Gaza. Slowly.

It shows us what is possible. 

So I need these Chirstmas decorations.

I need the neighbour who goes overboard with lights that sparkle and inflatables that sway in the wind.

Perhaps the lights help us to open our hearts to the pain of the world and not be overcome. There is hope. There has to be. 

In peace,

Elizabeth

elizstevenson@gmail.com

506-650-4812